Part 10 (1/2)

CHAPTER IX.

HIS EXCELLENCY'S JUDGMENT.

If Duke Hamilton had suddenly appeared in the room and surrendered himself without terms--a thing beyond doubt unlikely to happen as long as that gallant gentleman had thirty thousand men at his back--those present could scarcely have looked more astonished. Not that they, or the majority of them at all events, doubted the existence of witchcraft. On the contrary; but anything less like the common idea of a witch than this helpless child it would have been difficult to conceive. Respect for their chief did indeed silence the laughter which the man's answer would otherwise have caused, but it could not still the murmur of amazement and ridicule, or the hum of indignation which rose to their lips.

”The man is mad!” cried one by the door, a person privileged.

”Silence!” Cromwell answered sharply. ”And do you, sirrah,” he continued to Simon, ”explain yourself at once, or I will find means to lash sense into you. What has the boy done?”

Before Simon could answer Luke interposed. The enthusiast could restrain himself no longer.

”What has he done?” he cried. ”He has sold himself to do evil and stint not. Why do our horses fail and the wheels of our chariots drive heavily, so that the work is not done, nor the task accomplished?

Because of the learning of the Egyptians which he has learned, and because of the witchcraft of Jezebel which he has practised, that the people may remain in bondage and our leader fall and rise not. Be warned, O Joshua, and hear reason, O deliverer! It rains, and will rain in the land until----”

”Tie up the knave's mouth, some one!” thundered Cromwell. ”And do you,” he continued, addressing Simon, ”who seem to have some wit in your madness, answer me briefly, what has the child done?”

But Simon's answer was destined to be again interrupted; this time by the arrival of the officer in charge of the prisoners, who came in to learn whether the General would examine them in the house. Cromwell gave the order, and the men, two in number, were accordingly brought in and made to stand by the door. This caused a momentary delay and commotion; but, so great was the interest taken in the child, who had been by this time raised from the floor and relieved of his bonds, that scarcely any one turned to notice them. The moment the stir ceased, the General nodded to Simon.

”The boy has a spell,” Gridley answered, getting speech at last. ”He has a charm, and when he rubs it, it rains. He brought the rain yesterday, and brought it again to-day.”

”Tush, man!” Cromwell said contemptuously. ”You play with me.”

”You do not believe me?”

”No, in faith I do not,” the General answered darkly.

”Then here is the proof!” the fanatic cried, in a voice of triumph.

And he pointed to the wooden cross which lay on the table. ”There is the charm! There, look at it, touch it, handle it; tell me what it is, if you can!”

”A child's toy,” Cromwell answered scornfully, as he stepped forward and without hesitation took up the implement. ”Well, man, I see it,”

he continued, turning it over in his hand. ”What of it? Be brief with your madness, for I have larger fish to fry to-day. Be brief, I say.”

”I will,” the Puritan answered, undaunted. And therewith, beginning with the story of the strange evasion from the closet, he told the tale, so far as he knew it, of Jack's mysterious proceedings and powers. For a while, Cromwell listened or appeared to listen with half an ear only, his attention divided between the speaker and a map which the obsequious Pownall had placed on the table. But when Simon came to the boy's singular proceedings on the hillock above the road, and described, with some advantages which his imagination lent the narrative, the manner of the boy's behavior while the army pa.s.sed below him, Cromwell's att.i.tude underwent a sudden change. He closed the map with a quick gesture, and for a moment gazed full at the man from under his bushy eyebrows.

”Umph! And so you think that caused the storm, Master Numskull?” he rapped out, when Simon had come to an end. ”Where is this cross?”

It had been pa.s.sed from hand to hand, but was at once brought back to him. ”Here, Hodgson,” he said sharply; ”what do you make of it?”

The officer to whom he appealed turned the thing over and over in his hands, but could make nothing of it. Cromwell watched him with a sparkle in his eye, and at length s.n.a.t.c.hed it from him. ”Chut!”

he said--but although he scolded, it was evident he was well pleased--”you are as big a fool as Master Numskull there! Didst never see a tally, man?”

”A tally, your excellency?”

”Ay, a tally, a tally, a tally!” replied his excellency, impatiently.

”A thing, I tell thee, that was known in this England of ours, and in the exchequer, when rogues were fewer and thy ancestors were hung without benefit of clergy! This is a tally if ever I saw one. To take an honest tally for a witch's broomstick? But softly! Said I an _honest_ tally?” he continued, looking suddenly about him, while his voice grew hard and stern. ”Pownall! count those notches.”

The officer obeyed. ”There are twenty-three, your excellency,” he said, when he had accomplished the task.